Search America's historic newspaper pages from 1836-1922 or use the U.S. Newspaper Directory to find information about American newspapers published between 1690-present. Chronicling America is sponsored jointly by the National Endowment for the Humanities external link and the Library of Congress. Learn more

Download & Play

Questions

Newspaper Page Text

y1 . -
Cop
Syne
CHAPTER IX.
Sir Nigel. who had entered the roomn
with a silvery-haired old lady upon his
arm. stared aghast at this sudden burst
of candor.
"Maude, Maude!" said he. shaking
his head, "it is more hard for me to
gain obedience from you than from the
tenscore drunken archers who followed
me to Guinne. Yet, hush! little one,
for your fair lady-mother will be here
anon. and there is no need that she t
should know it. We will keep you t
from the provost-marshal this journey. t
Away to your chamber. sweeting. and
keep a blitlh face, for she who con
fesses is shriven. And now. fair moth- 2
er." he continued, when his daughter t
had gone, "sit you here by the fire, for
your blood runs colder than it did.
Alleyne Edrieson, I would have a word
with you, for I would fain that you
should take service under me. And
here in good time comes my lady. with- 2
out whose counsel it is not my wont 2
to decide aught to Import; but, indeed. 1
it was her own thought that you should I
come." I
"For I have formed a good opinion <
of you, and can see that you are one i
who may be trusted," said the I.ady
Loring. "And in good sooth my dear
lord hath need of such a one by his I
side, for he recks so little of himself I
that there should be one there to look I
to his needs and meet his wants. You
have seen the cloister; it were well I
that you should see the world, too, ere -
you make choice for life between them." I
"You can ride?" asked Sir Nigel.
looking at the youth with puckered
eyes.
"Yes, I have ridden much at the ab
bey."
"Yet there is a difference betwixt a
friar's hack and a warrior's destrier.
You can sing and play?" I
"On citole. flute and rebeck." I
"Good! You can read blazonry?"
"Indifferent well."
"I trust that you ere lowly and ser- 1
viceable?"
"I have served all -my life, my lord." I
"Canst carve too ?' t
"I have carved two days a week for I
the brethren."
"A model truly! Wilt make a squire
of squires. But toll me, pray, canst I
curl hair?"
"No. my lord, but I could learn."P
"It is of Import," said he, "for I
love to keep my hair well ordered, see
Ing that the weight of my helmet for t
thirty years hath in some degree frayed
it upon the top."
"It is for you also to bear the purse,"
said the lady; "for my sweet lord is of
so free and gracious a temper that he
would give it gayly to the first who
asked alms of him. All these things,
with some knowledge of venerie, and
of the management of horse, hawk, and
hound, with the grace and hardihood
and courtesy which are proper to your
age, will make you a fit squire for Sir
Nigel Lorin.",'
"Alas. lady!" Alleyne answered, "I
know well the great honor that you
have done me in deeming me worthy
to wait upon so renowned a knight,
yet I am so conscious of my own weak
ness that I scarce dare incur duties
which I might be so ill fitted to fulfil."
"Modesty anda humble mind," said
she, "are the very first and rarest gifts
in page or squire. Your words prove
that you have these, and all the rest
is but the work of use and of time."
"We can scarce hope," said Sir Nigel,
"to have all ready for our start before
the feast of St. Luke, for there is much
to be done in the time. You will ha-ve
leisure, therefore. If it please you to
take service under me, in which to
learn your devoir."
"And I have one favor to .erave fromv
you," added the lady of the, castle. ac
Alleyne turned to leave their presence.
"You have, as I understand, much
learning, which you have acquired at
Beaulieu. .{ would have you give an
hour or two a day whilst you are with
us in discoursing with my daughter,
the Lady Maude; for she is somewhat:
backward. I fear, and hath no love for.
letters, save for these poor fond ro
mances. which do but fill l'er empty
head 'u Ith dreams of enchanted maid
ens and of errant cavalier. Father
Christopher comes over after nones
from tl-e Priory, but he is stricken with
years 2.nd slow of speech. so that she
gets small profit from his teaching.. I
would have you do what you can with
her, anid with Agatha, my young tirer
woman, and with Dorothy Pierpont.
And so Alleyne found himself 'nc ,
only chosen as squire to :y knight, but
also as squire to three damnozels, which
was even further from the part which
he had thought to play in the world.
And now there came a time of stir
and bustle, of furbishing of arms and
clang of hammer from all the south
land counties. Fast spread the tidings,
from thorpe to thorpe and from castle
to castle, that the old game was afoot
once more, and the lions and lilies to
be in the field with the early sprIng.
Great news this for that fierce old
country whose trade for a generationt
had been war, her exports archers and
her Imports prisoners. For six years
her sons had chafed under aa unwonted 2
peace. Now they flew to their arms as
to their birthright. The old soldiers 1
of Crecy, of Nogent, and of Poictiers
were glad to think tfiat they might
hear the war-trumpet once more, andt
gladder still were the hot youth whof
had chrafl'ed for years under the mar
tial tales of their sires. To pierce the1
great mountains of the south, to fight
the tamers of the fiery Moors, to fol- I
low the greatest captain of the age, to.
find sunny cornfields and vineyards, I
when the ma'ches of Picardy and Nor- 2
mandy were as bare and blcalk as the
Jedburghi forests-here was \ golden 1
prospects for a race of warriors. From I
sea to sea there was stringing of bowS1
in the cottage and clang of steel In the
castle.
Nor did it take long for every strong
hold to pour forth its cavalry, and
every ha'.ilet its footmen. Through the I
late autumn and the early winter everyI
road and country lane resounded with I
nakir and trumpet, with the neigh of
the war-horse and the clatter of march- 1
Ing men.t
In the ancient and populous county I
of Hampshire there was no lack .of I
leaders or of soldiers for a service
which promised either honor or profit.
Greatest of all the musters. however,
was that at Twynhamn Castle. for the
name and the fame of Sir Nigel Loringc
drew toward him the keenest and bold- I
est spirits, all eager to serve under so
valiant a leader. Archers from the
New Forest and the Forest of Bere,
blillmen from the pleasant country I
which is watered by the Stour, the
Avon, and the Itchen, young cavaliers
from the ancient Hampshire houses, allc
were pushing for Christchurch to take
service under the banner ef the five
scarlet roses.
And now. could Sir Nigel have shownt
tahe hachelles of land which the laws
of rank required, he might well havet
cut his forked pennon into a squarei
banner, and taken such a fellowing intoe
the fild as would have supported the
dignity of a bannercet. But poverty
was heavy upon him: his land was
scant, his eoffers empty. and the veryj
castle which covered him the holding
of another. Sore was his heart when
he saw rare bowmen and war-hardenedr
spearmen turned away from his gates
for the lack of the money which mighti
equain and pay them. Yet the letterr
which Aylward had broughit him gave<
him powers which he was not slow to
use. In it Sir Claude Latour. the Gas
con lieutenant of the White Comnpany,
assured him that there remainedI i his
keeping enough to fit out a hundred
archers and twenty men-at-arms. I,
which, joined to the three hundred v'-t
eran comnlfanions already in France.
would make a force which any leader ft
-ih be proud to command. Care-Jt
yrighted. 1894.By Harper &
psis of preced'.g chapters at and of this installment.
ullv and sagaciously the veteran
night chose out his men from the
warm of volunteers. Many an anxious
onsultation he held with Black Simon,
;am Aylward. and others of his more
xperienced followers, as to who should
ome and who should stay. By All
aint's Day. however. he had filled up
tis full numbers, and mustered under
is banner as stout a following of
Yampshire foresters -.s ever twanged
heir war-bows. Twenty men-at-arms.
oo, well mounted and equipped, formed
he cavalry of the party, while young
>eter Terlake of Fareham. and Walter
ord of Botley. the martial sons of
nartial sires, came at their own cost
o wait upon Sir Nigel and to share
vith Alleyne Edricson the duties ot
tis squireship.
Yet. even after the enrolment, there
vas much to be done ere tie party
ould proceed upon its way. For ar
nor. swords, and lances there was no
eed to take much forethought, for
hey were to be had better and cheaper
n Bordeaux than in England. With
he long-bow. however, it was differ
nt. Yew-staves indeed might be got
n Spain, but it was well to take enough
nd to spare with him. Then three
pare cords should be carried for each
ow, with a great store of arrow-heads,
esides the brigandines of chain-mail,
he wadded steel caps, and the bras
arts or arm-guards, which were the
roper equipment of the archer. Above
.11, the women for miles round were
tard at work cutting the white sur
oats which were the badge of the
ompany, and adorning them with the
ed lion of St. George upon the centre
f the breast. When all was completed
nd the muster called in the castle
ard. the oldest soldier of the French
vars was fain to confess that he had
tever looked upon a better equipped or
nore warlike body of men, from the
mnight with his silk jupon. sitting his
rent black war-horse in the front of
hem, to Hordle John. the giant re
ruit, who leaned carelessly upon a
iuge black bow-stave in the rear. Of
he six score, fully half had seen ser
ice before, while a fair sprinkling
ere men who had followed the wars
11 their lives, and had a hand in those
attles which had made the whole
orld ring with the fame and the won
ter of the English infantry.
Six long weeoks were taken in these
ireparations, and it Was close on !far
inmas ere all was ready for a start.
igh two months had Alleyne Edric
t// 1
ren ofhs fe tivritfo
ha dakan onl /bun towar
/hc ttneadt ud tit
reerand ore unli chanels Al
'ed-ehdland obeshsfte
orta /iepoiinwihhdmd
ti 'ekt ko h oldeeh a
oescrbed ihn Catle Twmam-m fth ov-h
avih woves fatdho turnke whoe
ueren ofasultyfen t divertlessfand
ht ardsi and lorrow; boutre tward
rirtues, tein, ad tot gudetino
eptatin which sunlit hannels. inAl
eyhe uhadlant bl esstssfftheraa
ere th wsieprson which ame maom
aility to sn, the worlquest hih
asntred renoune frmth. ney
Fort Berhesh as ifrn pldae frot
hat whic he bette pitured-this if-l
ent, fro tived whic hie ha hiear
eschd swofyend inhexibste of thea no
ceshedefrtam to his charge utono In
urning frolvte wheredfteon te
hatofd the ptecfu olldyn cofl feie
her e was culwering i doutmss ndfe
utendefoinhano sorrow hours wereythe
tep.ain h ict-eld theownaifn him
el ough aty ofir tes worady
.knig how olorles supye coan ap-ve
eihared the pintlenerwich frome ferm
on bfiyo sthe comnqehs hrse
na attaoind byfli from thea mat
rms hbetr thaon agaist kindl
onigt who liaved ashimpleom life
testers lotywad inhexiorld? Here ideayo
vter ame fora hour hadter does,
nifom heu efrvie vesf r.heet
hato hmef oter lse couldnot feel
hate aes. lwernghi aims finrf.n
11teefore foub sevnors fryom
htrv in theil-eyenc to qalifyncim
niguhtk sYounthy supplesand eactie.
enth rasoone peto enerthat from yeas
-f pue nnd helthyn iself. Wih waslnot
And beor the coud manae hoins hors
n hs weanilt wenle.ng oernd
rs.r worltohodwis onih ans Ter
nzzut were her vayn oe oser u
ns wrhnicswaed huik frsente
l ostr oardnthe anwnorter Dday
tet dayfr an hur athe drones,
nd for anthor bomrne vrspersna
it"- hshel i troseh muio withr
hreie miidnd. allavng allfer aond
Iw-eth-rrtforeddeubnyherntenche froml
ehomokihr stn-it.het the found.
rear ro^oull tonlea nwas moit
onrtlol and b stin sef. mhirh nole
iev netunl. han.A dier, and
uxed in her mrin.Aloo, miht tak
.Brot eT -
heroes, of gallant deeds and lofty aims,
or he might hold forth upon moon and
stars, and let his fancy wander over
the hidden secrets of the universe, and
he would have a rapt listener with
flushed cheeks and eloquent eyes, who
could repeat after him the very words
which had fallen from his lips. But
when it came to alInagest and astrol
able, the counting of figures and reck
oning of epicycles, away would go her
thoughts to horse and hound. and a va
cant eye and listless face wv ald warn
the teacher that he had lost his hold
upon his scholar. Then he had but to
bring out the old romance-book from
the Priory, with befingered cover of
sheepskin and gold letters upon a pur
ple ground to entice her wayward
mind back to the paths of learning.
At times, too, when the wild fit was
upon her, she would break into pert
ness and rebel openly against Alleyne's
gentle firmness. Yet he would jog
quietly on with his teachings, taking
no heed to her mutiny, until suddenly
she would be conquered by his patience,
and break Into self-revilings a hun
dred times stronger than her fault de
manded. It chanced, however, that, on
one of these mornings when the evil
mood was upon her. Agatha. the young
tire-woman, thinking to please her mis
tress, began also to toss her head and
make tart rejoinder to the teacher's
questions. In an instant the Lady
Maude had turned upon her two blaz
ing eyes and a face which was blanched
with anger.
"You would dare!" said she. "You
would dare!"
The frightened tire-woman tried to
excuse herself. "But, my fair lady,
she stammered, "what have I done? I
have said no more than I heard."
"You would dare!" repeated the lady.
in a choking voice. "You, a graceless
baggage, a foolish lack-brain, with no
thought above the hemming of shifts!
And he so kindly and hendy and long
suffering! You would-ha, you may
well flee the room!"
She had snoken with a rising voice,
and a clasping and opening of her long
white fingers, so that it was no marvel
that. ere the speech was over, the
skirts of Agatha were whisking round
the door and the click of her sobs to be
heard dying swiftly away down the
corridor.
Alleyne starcd oren-eyed at this
tigress who had sprung so suddenly to
his rescue. "There is no need for such
anger," he said mildly. "The maid's
;
[E IS HNA ORE HU
wordshave one m no sath. Ii
woras hve hold mincs nou. Itwise
that there is not a second one."
"Nay, nay, no one has misused me."
he answered. "But the fault i!es in
your hot and bitter words. You have
called her a baggage and a lack-brain,
and I know not what."
"And you are he who taught mae av
speak the truth" she cried. "Now I
have spoken it. and yet I cannot please
you. Lack-brain she is, and lack-brain
I shall call her."
Such was a sample of the sudden
jangliugs which marred the peace of
that little class. And yet, there were
times when Alleyne had to ask himaself
whether it was not the Lady Maude
who was gaining sway and Influence
over him. If she were changing. so
was he. In vain he strove and reasoned
with himself as to the madness of let
ting his mind rest upon Sir Nigel's
daughter. Stronger than reason, strong
er than cloister teachings, stronger
han all that might hold him back, was
that old, old tyrant who will brook no
rival in the kingdom of youth.
He had scarce dared to face the
change which had come upon him, when
a few sudden charce words showea it
all up hard and clear, like lightning in
the darkness.
Hie had ridden n'ver to Poole. one
'november day, with his fellow-squire.
Peter Terlake. in quest of certain yew
staves from Wat Swathling, the Dor
setshire armorer. Peter was a hard,
wiry brown-faced country-bred lad,
who looked on the coming war as the
school-hoy looks on his holidays. This
day, however, he had been sombre and
mut'e. with scarce a word a mile to be
stow upon hIs comrade.
"Tell me. Alleyne Edricson." he broke
out suddenly. "has it not seemed to you
tht of late the Lady Maude is naler
and more silent thon'is her wont?"
"It may be so," the other answered
shorthy.
"And would rather sit elistrait by her
ore! than ride gavlv to the chase as of
old. Methinks. Allevne. it in this learn
ing which ynn have tan.ht her that
has taken all the life and sap from
"Wecr lady-mother has so ordered it,"
sid Allevna.
"Tb. nur T~aov! and 'withnnten dierc
eneet." (1unth Terlako. "it is in mv mind
-"' her Indv-mother le moro f"+.' t^
ad a compnny to a stormine than to
hn'ro tho uipbrineing of this tcnder nna
~ilk-white mnia. IThrk. ye. lad
Allovne. to what T never told won or
wman yet. T love the fair T.adv M'ade
and wonld rive the last dron of mr"
hort's blood to servo her" I-o srokc
with a enasping voice, nd hie fae
flushod crimson in the monnlight.
All"'no sniid nothin'e. hut hig he
seemed to turn to a lump of ice in his
bosom.
"Mv father han broad anes." the
to the slope of the Portsdown Hill.
Sure am I that Sir Nigel would be
olithc at such a match."
-But how the lady?" asked Alleyne,
ta uit ry lips.
"Ah,. lad! tere lies my trouble. It is
:1 to'S LA the nead and a druop of the
cycs if I say one word of wnat is in my
.mau. i uid uut ask her yester-night
ior ner green veil, that I migit -bear
it a- a token or lambrequin upon my
ului; ut us .e niasUed out at me that
.1eV pt tfor a better nian, and then
ail in a breatU asKed pardon or that
snie' iiad spoite so rudely. Yet she
would not take back tie words either,
iur wuUld sue giant tiLe veil. tias
it seemned to thee, Alleyne, that sue
loves any one?"
"Nay, I cannot say," said Alleyne,
with a wiid tarOU % Suuue lie ill
iiis heart.
"I have thought so, and yet I can
not name tie man. Indeed, save my
self, and Walter Ford. and you, who
are half a clerk, and Father Christo
pher of the Priory, and Bertrand tile
page, who is there whom she sees?"
"I cannot tell," quoth Alleyne shortly;
and the two squires rode on a gain,
each intent upon his own thoughts.
Next day at morning lesson the
teacher observed that his pupil was
indeed looking pale and jaded, with
listless eyes and a weary manner. le
was heavy-hearted to note the change
in her.
"Your mistress. I fear, is ill, Agatha."
he said to the tire-woman, when the
Lady Maude had sought her chamber.
The maid looker aslant at him with
laughing eyes. "It is not an illness
that kills." quoth she.
"Pray God not!" he cried. "But tell
me, Agatha. what is it that ails her?"
"Me thinks that I could lay my hand
upon another who is smittcn with the
same trouble," said she, with the same
sidelong look. "Canst not give a name
to it. and thou so skilled in lecchcraft?"
"Nay, save that she seems aweary."
"Well, bethink you that it is but
three days ere you will be gone, and
Castle Twynham be as dull as the
priory. Is there not enough there to
cloud a lady's brow?"
"In sooth, yes." ie answered. "I
had forgot that she is about to lose
her father."
"Her father:" cried the tire-woman,
with a little tr.Il of laughter. "Oh,
simple, simple!" And she was off down
the passage like arrow from bow, while
Alleyne stood gazing after her, be
twixt hope and doubt, scarce daring
to put faith in the meaning which
seemed to underlie her-v'ords.
CHAPTER X.
St. Luke's day had come and had
gone. and it was in the season of
Martinmas, that the White Company
was ready for its journey. Loud
shrieked the brazen bugles from keep
and from gate-way, and merry was
the rattle of the war-drum. as the men
gathered in the outer bailey, with
torches to light them, for the morn
had not yet broken. Alleyne. from the
window of the armory, looked down
upon the strange scene-the circles of
yellow flickering light, the lines of
stern and bearded faces, the quick
shimmer of arms, and the lean heads
of the horses. In front stood th bow
men, ten deep, with a fringe of under
officers. who paced hither and thither.
marshalling the ranks with curt pre
cept or sharp rebuke. Behind were
the little clump of stecl-clad horse
men. their lances raised, with long
nensils drooping down the oaken shaf Is
So silent and still were they that they
might have been metal-sheethed stat
ues, were it not for the Q casl.al quick
A sper' e i f
the spare and long-limbed figure of.
Black Simon. the Norwich fighting man,
his fierce, deep lined face framed in
steel and the silk guidon, marked with
the five scarlet roses, slanting over
his broad right shoulder.
The young squire was leaning for
ward gazing at the stirring and martial
scene, when he heard a short quick
gasp at his shoulder, and there was
tho Lady Maude with her hand to her
heart, leaning up against the wall,
slender and fair, like a half-plucked
lily. I1er face was turned away from
him, but he could see, by the sharp
intake of her breath, that she was
weeping bitterly.
"Alas! alas!" he cried, all unnerved
at the sight. "why is it that you are
so sad, lady?"
"It Is the sIght of these brave men."
she answered; "and to think how many
of them go and how few are like te
find their way back. .I have seen .it
before, when I was a little maid, in
the year of the Prince's great battle
I remember then how they mustered
in the balley, even as they do now.
and my lady-mother holding me in
her arms at this very window that I
might see the show."
"Please God, you will see them all
back ere another year be out." said he
She shook her head, looking round
at him with flushed cheeks and eyes
which sparkled in the lamp-light. "Oh,
but I hate myself for being a woman.
she cried, with a stamp of her little
foot. "What can I do that is good?
Here I must bide and talk and sew
and spin, and spin and sew and talk
Ever the same dull round, with nothing
at the end of it. And now you are
going, too, who could carry my
thoughts out of these gray walls, and
raise my mind above tapestry and
distaffs. What can I do? I am of ne
more use or value than that broken
'ow-stave."
"You are of such value to me." he
cried. In a whirl of hot. passionalfte
words. "that all else has be'cOm'.
naught. You are my heart. me life
my one and only thought. Oh. Maudo
T cannot live without you! I cannot
leav-e you without a word of love- l
is cha'need to me since I have know
vo T am noor and lowly and .al
unworthy: hut if great love may weigh
down such defects, then mine may do
it. Give me hut one word of hope to
tke to the wars with me. but one.
A' voul shrink. vou shudder! My wild
words have frichtened you-"
Twice she opened her lips, and twice
no sound 'ame from them. At last
he spoke in n hard and measure/! voice,
as one who dare not trust herself to
speak too freelv.
"This is oyer-siudden." she said: "It is
not so long since the world was
nothin tonno. You have changed
once; perchance you may change
again.
Cruel:" he cried. "Who hath
chanlgeu mer'
--Anl? tun' your brother:" she con
tinued Witn a little laugn, disregard
ing his question. "'Metninks this hatbh
become a larziy CUSLUm a.aungst the
Eiricsons. .Nay, 1 am surry; I did not
mean a jibe. But, indeed, Alleyne,
this hath :uiie quiely upon me, and
I scarce know what to say.
-bay somie word ut nope, however
distant-sume kinmd word tnat i may
cherish inl My leart."
"Nay, Alivyie, it were a cruel kind
ness, and you iiave been to good and
true a irintiA Lu me Luat I siuoaid Use
you deSiLcUlty. Tiere _cannot be a
cioser i L;etwl been . .i iLs uneiluss
to think of it. Were there n1u otlie
reasons, it is enougn ti.aL my fauem
and your brother w ould oota cry out
against it.*
"'1y brother, what has he to do with
it? And y-our father -"
"Come, Alieyne, was it not you who
would have me act fairly to all men,
and certels, to my .atner amongst
them?"
"You say truly," he cried, "you say
truly. But you do not reject me,
Maude? You give me some ray of
hope? I do not ask pledge or promise
Say only that I arn not hateful to
you-that on some happier day I may
hear kinder words from you."
Her eyes softened upon him, and a
heartfelt answer was on her lips,
when a hoarse shout, with the clatter
of arms ard stamping of steeds, rose
up from the bailey below. At the I
sound her face set, her eyes sparkled,
and she stood with flushed cheek and c
head thrown back-a woman's body,
but a soul of fire.
."My father hath gone down," she
cried. "Your place is by his side. Nay,
look not at me. Alleyne. It Is no
time for dallying. Win my father's t
love, and all may follow. It is when
the brave soldier hath done his devoir
that he hopes for his reward. Fare
well, and may God be with you!" She
heldout her white, slim hand. to him,
but as he bent his lips over it she
whisked away and was gone, leaving
in his outstretched hand the ve'ry
green veil for which Peter Terlake
had craved in vain. Again the hoarse
cheering bt:rst out from below, and he
heard the clang of the rising portcul
lis. Pressing the veil to his lips, he
thrust it into the bosom of his tunic,
and rushed as fast as feet could bear
him to arm himself and join the muster.
The raw morning had broken ere
the hot spiced ale was served round
and last farewell spoken. First came
Black Simon with his banner, bestrid
Ing a lean and powerful dapple-gray
charger, as hard and wiry as himself.
After him, riding three avreast, were
nine men-at-arms, all picked soldiers,
who had followed the French wars
before.x, So, with jingle of arms and
clatter of hoofs, they rode across the,
Bridge of Avon, while the burghers I
Shouted for the flag of the five roses
and its gallant guard.
Close at the heels of the horses came
two-score archers, burly an' mostly
bearded, their round targets on their
backs and Their long yellow bows, the
most deadly weapon that the wit of
man had yet devised, thrusting forth
from behird their shoulders. From
each man's girdle hung sword or axe,
according to his humor, and over his
rizlht hip there jutted out Zhe)eathern
quiver, with its bristle of goose, pigeon,
-md peacocl: feathers.
So wel* toast altogether
To the 'ray Goose Feather,
And lie land where tpe Gray Goose
flew.
Behind the bowmen strode two i
trumpeters bowing upon nakirs, and I
two drummers in poeti-colored clothes.
After them came twenty-seven sump
ter-horses carrying tent poles, cloth,
spare arms, spurs, wedges, c oking I
kettles, horseshoes, bags of nai, and 1
the hundred other things which ex
perience had shown to be needful In a
harried hostile country. A white mule
with red trappings, led by a varlet.
carried Sir Nigel's own napery and
table comfcrts. Then came two-score
more archers, ten more men-at-arms,
an), finallIy a rear-guard of twenty
bowmen, with big John towering in
the front rank and the veteran Aylward
marching by his side, his battered har
ness and fa-led surcoat in strange con
trast with The snow-white jupons and
shining bricandines of his companions.
A quick c:ross-fire of greetings and
questions and rough West Saxon jests
flow from resnk to rank, or wore bandied
about betwixt the marching archers
and the gazing crowd.
The Company had marched to the
turn of the road ere Sir Nigel Loring
rode out fromn the gate-way, mounted~l
on Pommers, his great black war I
war-horse, whose ponderous footfallI
on the wooden drawbridge echoed I
loudlf from the gloomy arch which I
velvet dress of peace, with fiat velvet
cap of maintenance, and curling ostrich
feather clasped in a golden broooh.
He bore no arms save the long andI
What Does
9%" ~ up
kc
Such
03
in Holmes' next adventure, h<
confronted by the cabalistic il
in "The Sign of the fo1
These two, the first and best of the Shb
ing. bound elegantly in a single big volu
& Bros.' regular $1.50 linen imperial edita
Here is a chance to get two of the most
most beautifully printed and bound edition
FRE #IH IE B OOK. ena
Be sure and use this Coupon, sending 50<
HARPER & BROS., Fran]
Name......................--- ...------.
Strcet........................
TOWn...........se. **********o.ee-*
aeavy sword which hung at his sad
Ile-bow; but Terlake carried in frost
)f him the high wivern-crested bassi
iet, Ford the heavy ash speaLr wih
swallow-tall pennon, while Alleyve
was entrusted with the emblazoned
shield. The Lady Loring rode her
palfrey at her lord's bridle-arm, for
she would see him as far as the edge
>f the forest, and ever and anon sue
urned her hardlined face up wistfully
:o him and ran a questioning eye over
xis apparel and appointments.
"I trust that ther - nothieng forgot,"
;he said, beckoning to Alleyne to ride
m her farther side. "I trust him tO
iou, Edricson. Hosen, shirts, cyclas,
Ind under-jupons are in the brown
)asket on the left side of the mule;
1is wine he takes hot when the night'
tre cold, malvoise or vernage, with
is much spice as would cover the
humb-nail. See that he hath a change
f he comes back hot from the tilting.
here is goose-grease in a box, if th
ld scars ache at the turn of t
veather. The purse I have alre
"ven you, Edricson,- continued t
1ady. "There are in it twenty
narks, one noble, three shillings
ourpence, which is a great treas
or one man to carry. And I pray
o bear in m~ind, Edri-zson, that
iath two pair of shoes, those of
eather for common use, and the ot
vith golden toechains, which he
vear should he chance to drink
vith the Prince or with Chando."
"My sweet bird," said Sir Nigel,
r right loath to part, but we
Low at the fringe of tae forest,
t is not right that I should take
hatelaine too far from her trust."
"But, oh, my dear lord." she
vith a trembling lip, "let me
vith you for one furlong furthe
me and a' half, perhaps. You
pare me this out of the weary ml
hat you will journey alone."
"Come then. my heart's comfort,"
Lnswered. "But I must crave a
rom thee. It is my custom, dar In
nd hath been since I have first Une
hee, to proclaim by herald In sue
amps, townships, or fortalices. as
nay chance to visit, that: my lady-love
>eing beyond compare the fairest and
iweetest in Christendom, I should
leem it great honor and kindly conde.,
;cension If any cavalier would run
:hree courses against me with shar
>ened lances, should he chance to hav
t lady whose claim heb was willing
o advance. I pray you then, my fair
love, that you will vouchsafe t* me
ne of those doe-skin gloves, that I
nay wear it as the badge of her whose
;ervant I shall ever be."
"Alack and alas for the fairest and
;weetest!" she cried. "Fair and sweet
would fain be for your dear sake, my
ord, but old I am and ugly, and the
enights would laugh should you lay
ance in rest in such a cause."
"Edricson," quoth Sir Nigel, "you
iave young eyes, and mine are sume
,hat bedimmed. Should you chance
to see a knight laugh, or smile, or
nven look., arch his brows, or purse
his mouth, or in any way show sure
,rise that I should uphold the Lady
klary, you will take particular note
>f his name, his coat-armor, and his
odging. Your love, my life's desire!"
The Lady Mary Loring sliDped her
iand from her yellow leather gauntlet,
ind he, lifting It with dainty revfr
mce, bound it to the front of his velvet
:ap.
"It Is with mine other guardian
ingels," quoth he, pointing at the
saint's medals which hung beside It.
'And now, my dearest, you have come
ar enough, May the Virgin guard and
yrosper thee! One kiss!" he bent down'
'rom his saddle, and then, striking
iptfrs into his horse's sides, he galloped
Lt top speed after his men, with his
:hree squires at his heels. Half a mile
urther, where the road topped a hill,
hey looked back, and the Lady Mary,
an her white palfrey, was still where
hey had left her. A moment later they
vere on the downward slope, and she
mad vanished from their view.
(To be Continued 27eat We&.)
Synopsis of Preceding Chapters.
Tho scenes of the story are laid in the 14th eentnir
Horde .lukn or tho Clasren 3'ni.wry, ILea
from tho Abbe" of Beaulieu. guilty of certain serios
charaw brought agaln't im by a number of * ",o
innk'u A th"r of thn lac-b r n wHAeye W_
bea 1 fgoo frno year tchosorh
self his future calling. In sadiness ho goes to visit is
brother, the Soemun of Mlinstead. whoie reputation
iunsa ory, At niht A1ynare L a rra die,
Alleyn ids lbrotherin ?lle ed woosqarroi
ins with a beautiful damscl. Hc rescnes he r,theb
that he Intends to in a comn n,w'VYs7
wihu ellngi hraee puzzjlnalcin
Fa serewsnht Blood smc ec
,rei apareohans crtimel had
bnr eeAlyn et i comed, ostared
wins wh lefanc~te culdte ofS ouKg
Tanhi mean?
waS the proble hc puzzLng
tOMShing0sh- rnoughlyr~
dhoiplavedt in
l'nhe tudy of Sarhouse
: ahc madeCOA crimE thafrd
l'dtcieiesin the old.yo
wms tin problnaed wloth oarLHrpe
Eo), , se tosaid wi this coupnsto
[iensl itersindfy dnue in arlt
forijus onehr COprice. th fr
ndsoetev coppersi h-engravuredo
lock Holmes, nrieled o00 paehoeade
onen pspa, wuithhe coforrmng.o
iensel Stesin of adont res
ru Sqnare, N. Y. City